Evening Star
by Rhistel Gold
Summary: As if things couldn't have gotten any worse: Avelin Cousland has been told that she is to beget the King's heir since the Queen is barren - a decision that the young warrior vehemently disagrees with. Follow Avelin as she leaves Highever behind, and runs into a whole new set of problems that involve a very handsome Templar! F!Cousland/Alistair with M!Cousland cameo.
1. Prologue: Noble Intentions

**noble intentions**

"What you mean, you made a decision for 'my own good'? You didn't even bother to consult me before making promises on my behalf! Am I to have no say in this 'arrangement' of yours?" Angry snippets of heated conversation between three distinct voices filtered through the heavy ironbark doors of Highever Castle's Great Hall. The sun had barely risen over the tops of the parapets, and already the day was looking rather glib indeed, considering the tones that echoed off the stone walls of the corridors. What he had heard was all the introduction that Aedan needed to realise that his mother and father had finally caved in and delivered the news they'd been harbouring for more than six months – his younger sister, Avelin, was to be the mistress of King Cailan Theirin, the Cousland childrens' childhood friend and current ruler of Ferelden. Cailan's wife, Anora mac Tir, had been declared barren by the Landsmeet nobles after failing to produce an heir after being Queen for almost six years, much to both the young monarchs' dismay. The nobility had begun debating on which lovely noble Ferelden daughter could become a possible mistress for the young king. As had been expected from the start of the debacle, Avelin Cousland had been the name of suggestion from almost every bannorn, with only a few putting other names forward. Aedan was hardly surprised – his sister was well-loved by the people, almost moreso than Anora herself, and she was a voice of reason in an otherwise tough crowd on many of the country's more delicate matters.

At seventeen, Avelin Dehlila Cousland was the epitome of noble beauty, even if in appearances alone. Skin as pale as winter's first snow, hair as dark as the moonless night, the youngest Cousland had become the talk of all noble men and their sons before her thirteenth nameday– a feat her parents found thrilling, but Avelin found abhorrent. Much to the dismay of her parents and most other nobility in Ferelden, she had taken to learning how to fight the year she'd turned fourteen, training with Highever's best knights in arms. Night and day she trained, learning basic footwork and weapon skills before advancing, eventually even besting most of their more seasoned soldiers. Avelin was known to many as the Jewel of Highever, but to the soldiers of the estate the young Cousland was known as " The Morningstar", for she was bright but lethal, and could command the attention of any she came across with a single look in her brilliant grey eyes. The phrase "if looks could kill" passed the lips of many soldiers as the years wore on, and she'd felled all but Highever's best knights by her sixteenth nameday. On the day she turned sixteen, Avelin was pitted against Roderick Gilmore, her father's second. It was a fight that every soldier in Highever had stopped to watch, including the Teryn. Though Avelin had been the underdog by a long shot, she came out of the fight bloody but victorious, a brilliant smile etched onto her youthful face. As a gift for both her birthday and for defeating Ser Gilmore in single combat, the men had all chipped in to have a set of armour smithed specifically for Avelin – a gorgeous plate set of gold and blue hues, the Cousland family crest emblazoned on the breastplate with one addition: a morning star in the centre of the laurels. Avelin took pride in that armour set and it's matching weapons, cleaning the swords and shield that the men had also taken care in procuring for her. Aedan couldn't remember a time in his twenty-six years where he'd seen his sister light up as she had when receiving that armour.

Pushing open the side entrance to the Great Hall and clearing his thoughts, Aedan made his way into the room knowing full well that his presence would not be acknowledged for a time yet. As his sister's guardian, however, it was his duty to listen to the conversation, and mediate if the conversation took an unpleasant turn; something that was entirely expected as of late, especially given how vocal and opinionated his younger sibling was. "Please tell me you're joking." Avelin begged of her parents, angry splotches of red marring her otherwise pale complexion and her bright grey eyes thunderous as they bore into her parents' gazes. When their parents both hesitated a brief moment before opening their mouths to speak, it was all the answer that Avelin needed. Clenching her fists tight enough to split the skin on her palms, she spat a very venomous proclamation. "If you think I will become Cailan's mistress just to advance this family and it's ties in the King's Court, you are mistaken. If you think, for even a moment, that I will lay with my childhood friend solely to produce an heir for this kindgom, you are delusional. I will **not **become a plaything to be used at Ferelden's whim and woe, duty or not!" With that said, she turned on her heel and breezed by Aedan, her shoulder slamming into his as she exited the hallway.

"Well that went spectacularly, didn't it?"


	2. The Unseen Betrayal

The skies were absolutely black, only a few sparse stars dotting an otherwise lightless canvas. However, in Highever Castle, one small candle still burned. At the top of one of the parapets, the light flickered and danced while whoever was inside the room moved about, pulling drawers open and hoisting chest lids from their base to get at the contents. Avelin Cousland was hatching a plan. She had overheard her father speaking with Fereldan's Warden-Commander Duncan and Arl of Amaranthine, Rendon Howe, in the Great Room earlier that evening, after another very heated argument with her mother. They had been discussing the darkspawn invasion in the Southern Hinterlands, near Ostagar, as well as Ser Gilmore's possible induction into the Grey Warden ranks. Avelin had been pleased to hear her name also pass the lips of the Warden-Commander, and had snickered a little as her father had quickly shot the idea down. Aedan and Fergus were leaving that afternoon with most of the soldiers Highever had to offer, and the teryn and arl were leaving with Duncan in the morning, Rory along with them.

__"You ___**_**will **_**___beget Cailan's child, Avelin, even if I have to force you to that bed myself!"__The teryna had shouted at her only daughter once Avelin had made pleasantries with Landra and her son Dairren, her cheeks flaming. Avelin only ignored her, shouting right back. Landra and Dairren had quickly excused themselves, retiring to the guest quarters of Highever Castle, but their absence was ignored by both Eleanor and Avelin as they squabbled. The two of them had gone back and forth for almost 4 hours, the servants only able to watch helplessly. When the teryna and her daughter argued, they had learned it was wise to just wait it out, for eventually the two women would come to an accord and the argument would settle. However, with this particular argument, Avelin was not backing down, which only served to further enrage her mother. Avelin had stood stoic while her mother heaved all sorts of insults at her, the kindest being "petulant child" and the worst having caused several of the elder servants to raise questioning eyebrows. The argument had gotten so bad that it took Bryce, Rory, and Fergus to separate the two women. Bryce had taken Avelin whilst Rory and Fergus had tried to calm Eleanor, the teryna storming to her quarters in a huff while Avelin argued beneath her breath the entire way back to her room. At the door, her father had turned to her and said simply, _"I cannot take sides in this, Avelin, for I love you and your mother both. But know this - a Cousland _**_**always **_******_puts duty before all else."_

Avelin sighed softly, pausing her whirlwind of actions to glance at the door to the armory with a guilty expression on her face. She hated betraying her father, for he had always supported every decision she made. This one, though, she knew he would never side with her, and would opt to allow her mother to dictate Avelin's future, something that the warrioress was not prepared to relinquish into her mother's hands. Which was why she was in the armory long after everyone had retired for the night. If she wanted any semblance of a life that she could control, she could not stay in Highever Castle. The raven-haired warrior had left almost all trace of her name and status back in her room, but there were a few things she couldn't part with. One of these things was the elaborate armour set that protected her lithe form, a gift from the soldier's she'd trained with for several years. The second was tucked beneath the soft linen shirt she wore beneath the heavy plate – an amulet made of roughly crafted iron in the shape of the symbol that blazed on all of the Thedas templars' armour, and next to it was a smaller pendant with Andraste's holy symbol burned into it. Avelin had been the proud owner of the amulet since she was a little girl, it having been given to her in Redcliffe by a little boy with sandy hair. The two of them had played together for hours, but unfortunately had been forced apart when the arlessa had caught the two of them. The Cousland family had visited Redcliffe many times after that, but not once did Avelin ever see her friend again.

Avelin frowned as she looked over at the weapons rack towards her personal swords and shield, the memory of her last visit to Redcliffe burned into her mind. When she had asked for news of the sandy haired boy that she'd befriended at the tender age of seven, the arl hesitantly placed the amulet in her hand, saying that her friend had asked him to give that to her should he see her again. Avelin had cried for hours, knowing full well what it meant. She had been inconsolable for nearly a week, locking herself in her room at Highever Castle and refusing to see anyone, even her brother Fergus. Shaking her head, she pressed on, hoisting her pack higher onto her shoulder. She'd stuffed all of her soft linen shirts and pants into the pack along with several changes of smallclothes. Tucked at the very bottom of the pack was the only elegant thing she'd brought with her - a dress made of brilliant ruby silk, carefully folded and tied so that it wouldn't take up much space. The teryna had ordered the dress made for Avelin's sixteenth nameday - the day she had officially come of age, and the day she had been formally introduced to Cailan.

So absorbed in her thoughts was the youngest Cousland that she almost didn't hear the bloodcurdling scream that echoed through the castle's corridors and courtyard. Cursing under her breath, she strapped her pack around her waist and over her shoulder, grabbing her weapons quietly. With roguish stealth, she opened the door to the armoury only to see an arrow flying in her direction. Barely diving out of the way, she charged whoever had let it loose, her sword sinking into the side of the soldier with frightening ease. She withdrew her weapon and rolled to the side, pushing herself back up with her second blade, kicking the man over to get a look at his face. Gasping, she recognized one of the Arl's archers, and a quick glance to her left confirmed her worst fear - her family was being betrayed by their oldest friend. With her thoughts racing rapidly, Avelin formed a battle plan in her head, one that first included alerting her parents,her sister-in-law, and her nephew. Nodding at no one in particular, she made haste for the family's sleeping quarters, groaning inwardly as she noticed that soldiers already had broken through the castle guard's defenses to get to the area.

"Well, no time to lose!" She muttered aloud, and after issuing a battlecry, charged into the contingent of men trying to barge their way into her mother's room. As she drove her sword into the last of the men, her mother's door opened. Avelin's head snapped up and she gazed at her mother in surprise. The teryna was in full battle armour, her longbow at the ready with an arrow already notched. "Darling! Are you alright?" Eleanor's crystal blue gaze bore into Avelin, the younger warrior's mouth opening and closing a few times before she regained control of her voice. "Never mind me, what about you?" Her eyes scanned the area as her mother responded with a quiet, "None of them got by, thanks to you. A scream woke me up, and there were men in the hall so I barred the door." After a pause, Eleanor added, "Did you see their shields? These are Howe's men!"

Avelin pinched the bridge of her nose and nodded. "He's turned traitor, and attacks us while our troops are marching to battle." Her mother gasped, a hand flying to her mouth. "You don't think his men were delayed...on purpose? That bastard! I'll slit his lying throat myself!" the teryna spat with such venom that Avelin was shocked speechless for a moment. "Avelin, have you seen your father? He never came to bed!" The warrior paled at her mother's admission, and breezed into the master suite for her father's arms chest, grateful to find it unlocked. Sure enough, Bryce's arms and armour were still inside the chest, and she bit her lip to quell a sob as she pulled the contents out and added them to her pack. "Mother, we need to check on Oriana and Oren as well. Maker knows what Howe's men are capable of if they find the two of them." Surprisingly, Avelin's voice was steady, though her pulse was racing. She prayed that her sister-in-law and nephew were unharmed, but when the smell that met her nose when she pushed the door open to their room, she knew that she had been too late to save her brother's family. Standing in the doorway, she clenched her fists, her mother racing into the room and kneeling at the sides of her daughter-in-law and grandson's corpses. As her mother grieved over the loss of the two, Avelin hissed venomously, "I will make that bastard bleed for what he's done here."

Striding forward, she gently tugged on her mother's shoulder, signalling that they needed to move quickly if they were going to find Bryce in all the chaos. The sounds of ringing swords and shouts were music to Avelin's ears, for they indicated that Highever was not about to go down without a fight. She and her mother battled their way downstairs, every kill they made against Howe's men fueling their hatred for him and his snake-like ways, and eventually they found the main action. Avelin's heart leaped at the sight of Ser Gilmore making a stand in the Great Hall, his men barring the door as they pushed a small group of Howe's men back. Throwing herself into the fray, Avelin let loose a shout that would boost morale as they clashed with the men in the hall. Blood splattered across the stone floors of the hall, and by the end of the fight, several of Highever's men were lost and many more were wounded, but they still stood vigilant. "Your ladyship, my lady - I thought we'd lost you for good." breathed Rory, his eyes lingering on Avelin for a moment, blood splattering his face and his bronze armour. "I thought for sure that Howe's men would get through-" Before he'd even finished, Eleanor interjected with a sob, "They ****did ****get through! They murdered Oriana, and Oren. If Avelin hadn't shown up...Maker knows what would have happened to me!" Raising a hand to silence her mother's rant, Avelin asked quietly, "Are you alright, Rory? Have you seen my father?" When she was met with silence, she sighed softly. "When I last saw your father, my lady, he'd been badly wounded. He and Duncan were looking for you and your mother. They'd figured the two of you would head for the hidden servant's entrance in the larder." Nodding, Avelin looked back up at him, not wanting to lose another companion in the mess that Howe had created. "Come with us, Rory. We need to find my father and get out of here before we lose the castle for good." As she spoke, however, she glanced towards the five men who were struggling to brace the great doors.

Following her gaze, Rory smiled sadly. "I'm going to stay and help my men. I will hold this area for as long as I can so that you and the teryna can get to safety." Avelin's gaze moved back to her longtime friend, desperation written across her youthful face. "But-" He held up a hand to silence her. "No, Avelin. I'd rather die protecting you than escape and lose us all for good." Avelin looked back at her mother, who was watching the exchange with saddened eyes. Suddenly uncaring of what her mother thought of her, she reached out to the warrior who stood before her facing his death, and kissed him. She'd had feelings for him for a while, but had never acted on them, and she hated herself now for never taking a chance on the red-headed knight. The kiss lasted a short time before Avelin embraced Rory tightly, pressing her face into his shoulder for a moment. Withdrawing, her grey eyes locked with his brilliant green ones, and she squeezed his shoulders affectionately. "I will ****never ****forget you, my friend. Maker guide your steps and empower your blade." Turning away from him before she fell apart in front of him, she ran out of the room using the other side door. She couldn't bear watching her best friend fall in front of her, especially not after having laid eyes on the bodies of her sister-in-law and nephew.

Once through the doors, Avelin found herself and her mother in the throngs of battle once more, and with renewed vigor as well as amplified contempt, the two of them fought their way to the servant's entrance in the castle larder. Once in the kitchen, Eleanor cried out at the sight of corpse of their longtime cook and the children's former nanny on the stone floor, but Avelin wouldn't stop. Pushing open the door to the larder, she pulled her mother inside, closing the door behind them. When her mother's cry of sheer anguish reached her ears, however, Avelin turned and paled even further at the scene that lay before her. Her father lay on the stone floor, his hand pressed against a grievous wound on his side. The amount of blood pouring from between his fingers suggested that he didn't have much longer, and bile rose in Avelin's throat. Howe had done this. She knelt at her father's side, whimpering softly as her swords clattered against the stone. "Daddy..." She whispered hoarsely, having not called him that since she was a small child.

"Hush, pup." Her father responded softly, and Avelin had to bite back a laugh within her sobs. "It's just like you to try and comfort me when you are the one who needs the comfort more." She mumbled, shaking her head at him. "I need you strong, my darling girl. Someone must reach your brothers...to tell them what has happened here." Avelin couldn't agree more. "We will take ****vengeance ****on that deceitful bastard, I promise." Her father, for once, did not reprimand her for her unladylike tone. "Yes. Vengeance." A shudder racked her father's body and he cried out in agony. Before Avelin could react, her mother pressed her own hands against the wounds, trying to quiet her father and help him out of the castle, at which he refused, stating that the castle was surrounded. At that moment, Avelin heard the door open, and she was on her feet with swords in hand before the person had even opened the door. When her eyes met those of the Warden-Commander, she apologised and lowered her guard just slightly, much to his apparent amusement. "The teryn is right, my lady. Howe's men surround the castle. They will surely break through shortly." Avelin clenched her fists as her father begged Duncan to take both herself and her mother to the South, in order to keep them safe and to warn the other Cousland siblings. "I will, your lordship. But, I fear I must ask a favour in return." When three pairs of eyes turned to look at him in surprise, he clarified, "What is happening here pales in comparison to the darkspawn incursion to the south. I came here seeking a recruit, and the threat of a Blight demands that I leave Highever with one." Eleanor was about to protest when Bryce nodded. "I understand."

Only then did Avelin catch on to what Duncan meant. "You never intended to test Rory, did you." The words came out harsher than intended, but she found she did not care. "No, my lady. In truth, ****you ****were always my first choice." Duncan paused a moment before formally issuing his invitation. "I offer you a place among the Grey Wardens, Lady Cousland. We would be honored to accept a warrior of your stature into our midst." As the commander spoke, Avelin met the eyes of her father, who nodded subtly at her. "I would be honoured to become a Grey Warden, sir." She responded quietly, her mother watching the two of them intently. "Bryce, are you sure?" All eyes turned back to the dying teryn. "Our daughter will not die of this treachery. She will live...and make her mark on this world." At her father's words, a sob escaped Avelin's throat, tears blurring her vision as they raced unbidden down her pale cheeks. "Darling, go. Go with Duncan. I will stay." Duncan made to speak, but Eleanor held up a hand. "I will not abandon my husband, sir. I will murder every bastard that dares to walk through this door to ensure you and my daughter escape this castle unharmed."

Avelin sensed that there was no way she could convince her mother to come with her, so she hugged both of her parents tightly, still shaking with sobs. "I love you...I'm so sorry..." She whispered, Duncan tugging her away as the great doors were finally broken through. They entered the tunnels in the larder, where Avelin paused for only a moment to look back. The last thing she saw were the looks of pure love and pride on her parents faces before the entrance swung shut. Gathering her courage, she turned and raced through the tunnels with Duncan, finally reaching the end an hour later, dropping down quietly onto the rocks some five feet below the exit to the tunnel. Thankfully, Duncan did not speak as they made their way towards the roads leading out of Highever.

As they walked south following the path Highever's army had taken just the day before, Avelin hoisted her pack higher onto her shoulder, repeating a silent vow in her head until it was burned into her conciousness. _I ___will make them proud. I will ___**_**never **_**__****___forget this day, as long as I live. And I will not rest until these blades have skewered the heart of the bastard who cost me everything I held dear.__


	3. New Beginnings

Avelin walked alongside Duncan in silence for the first few hours following their escape from Highever Castle, her mind set only on the path that now lay in front of her. It took all of her focus to put one foot in front of the other without looking back. She had already done that once, and it had cut her so deeply that she'd spent an entire thirty minutes sobbing as Duncan gently guided her along the Imperial Highway.

Four long, grueling hours later, when the sun was just barely breaking the roots of the trees, the pair stopped to rest. Normally, Avelin would have been grateful for such a rest, but her mind was too uneasy to sleep. Volunteering for the first watch so that Duncan could get some much needed rest, she settled down at the root of a broad oak, her eyes staring blankly in the direction they'd traveled from. Behind her, Duncan settled onto his bedroll before speaking softly, "For what it is worth, my lady, I am sorry for what occurred at Highever Castle. The loss of your mother and father will hurt Fereldan for a time yet." A small smile tugged at the corners of Avelin's mouth, and she murmured a soft, "Thank you, Commander..." in response to his offer of condolences. After a short time, the only noise she could hear was Duncan's soft, even breathing, and the sound comforted her a little. It was the only normalcy she'd had in almost an entire day.

Fortunately, Avelin's watch was an easy one with no signs of trouble. When Duncan woke, he offered to take watch so that she could sleep, an offer she declined. Though she was exhausted, her mind was still in too much turmoil to be able to settle. Hiking her pack onto her shoulder once more, she adjusted her armour so that it did not dig into her neck before they pulled up the rest of camp and began to head into the Hinterlands, towards Ostagar, following the same path that Aedan and Fergus had followed just the afternoon before.

The signs of the army's movements were clear; usually firm ground was churned up underfoot, and there were visible wheel marks from the supply caravans that had travelled to Ostagar with the men. It took a week of walking to reach the foot of the ruins, a period of time with which Avelin used to grieve over her family's losses, and to speak to Duncan about the Grey Wardens. She'd learned much from the older gentleman, and though he could not tell her of the Joining ritual she would have to go through, she found herself oddly at peace with everything he told her. The Grey Warden order had always fascinated Avelin, and to become one was better than anything she'd ever dared to hope for.

Upon entering the camp, they were greeted by guards with the traditional salute – arms crossed over their chests and a short, respectful bow. Avelin felt odd to be on the receiving end of such a formal greeting, even despite having receieved it several times in Highever. She was no longer a noble, not in her eyes. She was a Grey Warden recruit, and it took precidence over all other titles she possessed. The guards returned to their posts as she and Duncan made their way across the ruin, passing the Tower of Ishal, before they were met with a rather pleasant surprise.

Duncan stopped short, Avelin following suit. Her eyes followed Duncan's gaze, and she grimaced inwardly as the Warden Commander greeted their adversary properly. "Your Majesty! I wasn't expecting a-"

"A royal welcome?" Cailan interjected with a boyish grin, his eyes twinkling. "Here I was beginning to think you'd miss all the fun!" His eyes shifted to the young woman standing alongside Fereldan's Commander of the Grey, and he stared at her in surprise. "Avelin? What are you doing here? I was only told your brothers were to be here, along with your father." The surprise quickly turned into concern, and Avelin sighed softly. His depth of feeling for her was written all over his face, and she could almost hear Duncan's amused grin.

"I'm the last recruit Duncan sought, Cailan. My father...he..." She paused for a moment, her voice thick. "He won't be joining us here at Ostagar."

"Oh? I do hope nothing's happened to him. He is one of my best advisors." Cailan mused softly, his eyes searching Avelin's face for clues, but she avoided his gaze. She knew that Cailan had wanted her for his Queen for a long time, but it was not a fate she ever wanted for herself, and he'd respected that ever since they were small. However, his concerns for her intensified when she stifled a sob at his words, her hands balling into fists. "Duncan?" The young king looked up at his close friend for an answer, which Duncan provided after laying a comforting hand on Avelin's shoulder.

"Arl Howe has shown himself a traitor, and overtaken Highever Castle. The teryn and teryna are both dead, Your Majesty. Had we not escaped, he would have murdered us and told you any story he wished to convey." Fereldan's Warden-Commander spoke softly, keeping a hand on the youngest Cousland's shoulder.

"I...I can scarely believe it! When we are done here, I want the army ready to turn north. We are going to rectify this situation right away." Cailan's voice was tinged with adamancy, and he gently knelt before his childhood friend, an act she protested with a strangled cry. The king, however, would have none of that. He took Avelin's chin in his hand, tilting her face up to look at him before speaking quietly, "I can never bring your parents back, and for that I am sorry, Avelin. But I will not let this disloyalty lie. I will return Highever to you, I promise."

Avelin could only nod, whispering softly, "Thank you, Cailan..." Her body trembled with exhaustion now that the adrenaline rush she'd been working on finally wore off. Cailan scooped her up, much to the protests of both the young Cousland and his guard, but a stern look shut all of them up. Holding her to his chest, Cailan started back across the bridge to where most of the army was situated, and once there, made to enter his tent with her.

"No!" Avelin protested, struggling against her longtime friend's chest. To her, he was still the impish little blond boy she'd grown up with rather than Fereldan's king. She found it incredibly foreign to refer to him as "Your Majesty" or anything formal, and thankfully, Cailan did not correct her. "You need sleep, Avelin. Forgive me, but you look like death." Ignoring her persistent protests, he ducked into his tent with her and lay her down on the bed within. Once he had her settled, he began to undo the buckles to her armour, at which she stopped him.

"No, Cailan. Leave it. If I have to sleep here in your tent, fine. But don't remove this armour. I'll sleep better knowing that I still have this on." Her voice was firm, and Cailan sighed. "As you wish, my lady." He turned on his heel and left, likely to return to whatever he'd been doing before she and Duncan had showed up. Flopping back on the bed, Avelin sighed, her eyes fixating on the roof of the tent, following the stitching patterns until her eyes fluttered closed, and sleep closed in on her.

* * *

><p>Some time later, a groggy Avelin emerged from the King's tent, trying to get her bearings. It was relatively dark, she realised, and the camp was tinged with flickerings of red and gold from the various fires that each sector had lit. She noticed the Grey Warden tent not too far off, and headed in that direction. She had yet to meet the other recruits, and she didn't want to appear as if she were getting a free ride. When she arrived at the tent, she noticed Duncan accompanied by 3 other Wardens, one of whom looked vaguely familiar to her. Shaking the suspicion from her thoughts, she wandered over to the group, smiling faintly at Duncan as she approached.<p>

"Ahh, Avelin, there you are. I trust you are alright now?" The commander questioned warmly. Avelin nodded, responding with a soft, "I've been better, but yes, Duncan, I'm fine." From her left, a roguish looking fellow piped up, "Saw her coming out of the King's tent, I did. Who'd you have to bribe to get in his bed?"

Before Duncan could react, Avelin's hand had shot out, her fist connecting solidly with the rogue's jaw, sending him sprawling at the feet of their commander, who appeared vaguely amused by the warrior's antics. "Anyone else want to take stabs at me?" She asked quietly, venom lacing her words. When no one said anything, she hauled the rogue to his feet again, glowering at him. He seem to shrin under her gaze, making the sandy-haired Warden to Duncan's right chuckle a little bit.

"Normally, all our recruits go out into the wilds to collect a vial of darkspawn blood each. However, all the preparations for the Joining have been completed while you recovered, Avelin, so there is no need for you to enter the Wilds." The warrior began to protest, but Duncan held up a hand, effectively silencing her. "You needed the rest – you did not sleep at all on our journey from Highever." Sighing, Avelin relented, closing her mouth after issuing a quiet thanks to her fellow wardens for looking out for her. "Alistair, please take them to the old temple while I make the final preparations."

The sandy-haired Warden nodded, and the three recruits followed him as he made his way to a part of the ruin that was isolated from the rest of the camp, so as not to disturb anyone or reveal too much about the Joining. Avelin utilized much of the time spent waiting for Duncan to try and place why Alistair looked so familiar to her, getting increasingly frustrated with being unable to place him. When Duncan did arrive, he was holding a silver chalice filled with some kind of pugent smelling liquid that turned Avelin's stomach.

"At last, we come to the Joining." He spoke softly, Alistair looking down at the ground whist he did, looking somewhat forlorn. "The Grey Wardens were founded during the first Blight, when humanity stood on the verge of annihilation." Duncan placed the chalice somewhat reverently on the altar stone before turning back to the three recruits. "So it was that the first Grey Wardens drank of darkspawn blood and mastered their taint."

Avelin's blood turned to ice, and she glanced between Duncan, Alistair, and the two warden recruits beside her, whose names she had learned while they'd been pacing back and forth. Daveth was the snarky rogue she'd clocked earlier, and Jory was another knight of Highever. She'd been relieved when he'd not recognized her. Jory was the one who spoke first, terror in his voice. "We're going to drink the blood of those...those things?!"

"As the first Grey Wardens did before us, and as we did before you. This is the source of our power, and our victory." Duncan explained patiently, before Alistair added, "Those who survive become immune to the taint. We sense it in the darkspawn. We take that gift, and can use it to slay the Archdemon."

Avelin forced the words she was thinking from her throat, though they felt sticky. "Those who survive?" Now she was beginning to understand why they hadn't been able to tell her anything about it. If the recruits knew the sacrifice they made to become a Warden, they'd run for the hills, and the order would die out.

"Not all who drink the blood will survive, and those who do are forever changed." Duncan responded, his eyes saddended as he relayed this news to the three young recruits before him. Daveth looked surprisingly calm, but Jory's eyes were wild with horror, his entire body trembling. This is why the Joining is a secret. It is the price we pay. We speak only a few words prior to the Joining, but these words have been said since the first. Alistair, if you would?"

Alistair stepped forward, looking very solemn as he carefully spoke the words from memory. "Join us, brothers and sisters. Join us in the shadows where we stand, vigilant. Join us as we carry the duty that cannot be forsworn. And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten and that one day we shall join you."

Avelin was silent during the recitation of the words, committing them to her memory. She would never forget. Her thoughts were interrupted as Duncan asked Daveth to step forward and submit himself to the taint. The rogue never hesitated before he lifted the cup to his lips and took a sip of the noxious liquid it contained. Not a moment had passed by before the rogue cluched at his throat, his eyes rolled back into his head. Falling to his knees, he grasped his throat more tightly, but eventually succumbed, his body falling still at Duncan's feet. "I am sorry, Daveth." Duncan murmured, and one look at his face told Avelin that he truly was sorry for the young rogue's fate.

"Step forward, Jory." Avelin glanced at the knight, frowning as he backed away, sputtering nonsense and reaching for his blade. He grappled with Duncan before the Warden-Commander sank his dagger into the knight's side, piercing his heart swiftly. "I am sorry, Jory." He murmured, wrenching the dagger out. Jory collapsed at his feet as swiftly as Daveth had, blood pouring from the wound on his side.

Finally, Duncan turned to Avelin, offering her the cup. "You have been called upon to submit yourself to the taint for the greater good. From this day forth, you are a Grey Warden." Avelin tilted the chalice to her lips with no hesitation. The foul liquid burned as it traveled down her throat, and she felt as though her insides were on fire. Grasping at her head, where the pain was centered, she fell to her knees as a wicked vision of a dragonesque figure erupted before her eyes, spewing violet flame from it's horrid looking mouth.

The next thing she knew was her eyes opening to reveal both Alistair and Duncan hovering over her, and they both sighed with relief as her eyesight focused. "Thank the Maker.." Alistair murmured, brushing a strand of her hair from her face, making Duncan grin a little. "Welcome to the Grey Wardens, Avelin Cousland. It seems I was right about you."

At the mention of her last name, Alistair froze, his eyes locked on her face for a brief moment before he rose rapidly, hastily pulling something out of his pocket. It was a vial-shaped pendant, and one look at it told Avelin what it contained. "One last thing to your joining." Alistair mumbled softly. "We take some of that blood, and place it in a pendant. Something to remind us of those who...didn't make it this far." His eyes slid to the bodies of Daveth and Jory, Avelin's gaze following shortly after.

"Did you dream?" Alistair asked abruptly, causing Avelin's gaze to snap back to his face. "I had terrible dreams after my joining." She nodded quietly, Duncan interjecting at the exchange. "Such dreams come when you begin to sense the darkspawn. Now, both of you, come with me. We've been summoned to a war council meeting with the King and Teryn Loghain." At the mention of Loghain, Avelin's eyes narrowed, making Alistair grin and whisper in her ear, "I don't like him much either." The two wardens erupted into giggles as they followed Duncan, who merely shook his head at their antics.

At the council, they stood beside Duncan proudly, Cailan congratulating Avelin on making it into the order, though it was obvious he knew nothing of what it took to join. She thanked him anyway, Loghain's eyes narrowing as he recognized her. As was his way, he took to arguing with Cailan over his fascination with glory and legend, an argument Cailan won with simple logic. When the Tower of Ishal was mentioned, Cailan demanded that Alistair and Avelin light the beacon, ignoring their protests.

The Wardens were dismissed, and Alistair grumbled all the way back to the Grey Warden tent. The rest of the Wardens had joined the King's army on their march earlier, and Duncan would accompany Cailan. Alistair was indignant on knowing why he couldn't fight, to which Duncan responded, "We are Grey Wardens. We do what is asked of us, no matter how needless the task may seem."

Alistair sighed, but spat, "Fine. Just so you know, if he asks me to put on a dress and dance the Remigold, I'm drawing the line." Avelin snickered next to him, but bravely retorted with, "I think I'd like to see that." She was surprised to see Alistair grin wryly at her. "For **you** maybe. But it has to be a pretty dress." Duncan shook his head and waved them off, but not before Alistair said quietly, "Duncan. May the Maker watch over you."

A sad smile crossed the Commander's face as he looked back at them over his shoulder. "May he watch over us all." With that said, he disappeared beyond the gate into the Wilds, leaving two very young Wardens staring after him quietly, their previous mirth vanishing completely and being replaced by solemn expressions.

Turning to face the bridge, Avelin spoke boldly, "Right then. Let's go."

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><p><strong>AN:**_ So that's that! Avelin is officially a Warden, and Alistair figured out who she is before she's even had a chance to recognise him. Poor lass. She'll figure it out eventually! _

_Also - Wow! I want to thank everyone who has read this story so far– I'm flattered that you guys think so highly of my work! Considering this is my first ever fic, I'm absolutely chuffed to bits. :)_

_I also want to apologise that this update is a bit later than scheduled – I had a heap of stuff come up this week, and it delayed so many projects. But, alas, I can't control everything, even if I want to!_

_Please feel free to leave reviews, general comments, suggestions, or ask me questions!_

_Special thanks to ElyssaCousland for giving me some great tips – if you haven't read "There and Back Again" by her, I suggest you do it! Her work is phenomenal!_

_Until next time! :)_


	4. Blighted Realisations

Avelin had to admit that watching the battle unfold below them was definitely something that no amount of her training or the Highever Knights stories would have ever prepared her for. The clash of steel on steel rang sharply in her ears, and the air was rank with blood, dust, and smoke. There was rubble everywhere thanks to darkspawn catapults taking chunks of the already crumbling fortress out, and a few of the guards on the bridge had been annihilated in the latest assault on Ostagar.

Pushing her thoughts firmly aside, she pushed forward on the bridge, her jaw clenched tightly. She was still reeling from her Joining, but there was no time to bitch and moan about being unable to climatize to being a Warden. This was her life now, and she would handle whatever the Maker threw at her with the grace of a Cousland. "Alistair, we need to get across this bridge-" Her sentence was cut short as another large projectile was flung at the bridge.

"MOVE!" Avelin cried in terror as she dove for the templar, pinning them both down and covering them with her shield as the object collided with the wall where they had been standing not seconds before. Cursing loudly in Antivan – something she'd picked up from Oriana – she flung debris from the two of them with her shield and hauled Alistair to his feet before taking off at a run across the bridge. _Maker, __**please**__ let us come out of this unscathed. I know it's a lot to ask, but I..._ Her thought process came to an abrupt halt as she realised that she wasn't entirely sure what she was asking.

Shaking her head and gesturing for Alistair to follow, she trudged up the small hill towards the entrance to the Tower of Ishal. It was here that she realized that she was leading Alistair, the more Senior of the two of them. "Er...Alistair, do you want to lead?" She asked meekly, looking over at the sandy haired warrior with a faint flush staining her cheek. _Leave it to me to act like an impulsive, selfish brat._ She thought bitterly, but to her amazement Alistair shook his head and gestured for her to lead on.

Her eyes must have betrayed her unspoken question, for not a second passed before Alistair answered quietly, "I prefer to follow. I was never a leader." Avelin held up a hand before he could continue, and he shot her a grateful glance. A clamouring at the gate caught her attention, and she drew her swords easily, her shield strapped securely to her back where it could be unhooked at a moment's notice should she have need of it. As the two Wardens watched warily, two tower guards and a mage burst out of the gate and raced down the ramp. Upon seeing the two wardens, they cried out in gratitude, one of the guards stumbling over herself to tell them what happened.

"Thank the Maker, you're Grey Wardens! The tower- it's been taken!" The woman's eyes were wild with fear, and Alistair cut in before Avelin had a chance to bring the woman to her senses. "What are you talking about, my lady? Taken how?" The guard shuddered at the memory, but she quickly informed them that darkspawn had infiltrated the tower through the lower trenches and had overwhelmed the contingent of men that had been stationed inside the tower. Without a second glance at the two Wardens, the woman took off running, leaving a bewildered Alistair and a faintly bemused Avelin to deal with the mage and the remaining guard. After a brief, awkward silence, Avelin spoke.

"Lead on."

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><p>It was unlike anything he'd ever seen. Around him, men were collapsing at the hands of darkspawn, and darkspawn were being obliterated at the hands of the armies and the mages. Cailan felt a brief spurn of pride as he realized his strategy was working, but the feeling was shortlived when he was brought sharply back into the real as three darkspawn thought to attempt to flank him.<p>

Snorting, he made quick work of them, Duncan whirling about beside him, dispatching the ones who were trying to break through their lines. Any moment now, the signal would go up for the beacon to light at the Tower. More than anything, Cailan prayed that Avelin would emerge from this horror unharmed. He was already distraught enough over the loss of Bryce and Eleanor Cousland, and he was worried sick over the whereabouts of Fergus and Aedan – their scouting band had been found, slaughtered, but there was no sign of the Cousland men.

"Your Majesty!" came a sharp cry at his left, and he whirled just in time to slice a darkspawn hurlock in half as it attempted to jump him. "Might I remind the king of Fereldan that were are in the middle of a battle and that daydreaming is likely going to be the cause of his demise?" Duncan's words were both teasing and true – Cailan couldn't afford to lose his focus now.

"My apologies – my mind has been preoccupied." He offered weakly, knowing full well that the Fereldan Commander of the Grey would see straight through him. "Ever since Lady Cousland appeared here. It was my understanding that she was to be your mistress." Duncan spoke quietly as the two of them fought back another wave of darkspawn.

Panting, Cailan nodded briefly. "Yes, that's correct. At least, that was the arrangement that Bryce, Eleanor, and the Landsmeet came to. I personally had no say in it. I've known Avelin since she was swaddled- we grew up together." At the memory of the black haired warrior as a child, Cailan laughed softly. "As I grew older, however, we became more distant. My father directed all of my attention towards learning to lead Ferelden, and Avelin was still playing with Alistair in the halls of Redcliffe Castle." The king sighed softly, looking up at the tower for a moment before he felt the ground tremble. The look on Duncan's face terrified him, and he turned slowly. And almost fainted at what he saw. "What in the name of Andraste is that?" He cried, his shield raised and his step at Duncan's side almost immediate.

"An ogre, your Majesty."

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><p>"Told you it'd be easy!" Avelin chided her Warden compatriot in a sing-song voice, wrenching her twin blades from the chest of the ogre the two of them had just spent the past half an hour battling. The dual-wielding warrior was sporting some rather nasty cuts across her arms and one along her jawline, but none were as bad as the broken arm Alistair sported from when he'd been bashed after springboarding her onto the ogre's head.<p>

"Whatever you do, Avelin, please don't do that again." Alistair pleaded, his voice a low and pained whisper. His arm was in agony, and her chiding him was bruising his already bruised pride. Gone was the little girl he'd played with in the halls of Redcliffe Castle, and in her place was a beautiful, deadly warrior who still possessed all the grace of a lady and the playfulness of a child. He'd recognized her instantly after Duncan had revealed her name at the ruined temple, but he knew she had yet to recognize him. He preferred it that way, actually – it gave him time to get to know her, truly, and what she'd been doing with herself since he'd been sent to the monastery.

"I'm sorry, Alistair." came a soft, sincere apology as Avelin lay a hand on his shoulder. Before he could react, she'd reset the bones in his arm and restrained him so that he couldn't do any damage ro her, or further damage to herself. She was rewarded with a loud, pained cry from the templar, and it cut her to the core. She should have protected him. Avelin quickly drew a poultice from her pack and dripped it into where Alistair's bone had been protruding not a moment before. A loud hiss and a strangled curse told her that the medicine had hit its mark, and sure enough the skin began to knit.

Releasing him slowly so that he didn't drop on the floor in front of her, she took a step back, and turned to survey the room. She looted a few items from the barrels in the tower, but found nothing else of consequence. Satisfied, she turned and used the torch at the side of the fireplace to light the beacon. None of them could have been prepared for what happened after that. Alistair's panicked shout as he dove for her, the arrow that protruded from her chest and the blood that bloomed in it's wake. _So this is what death feels like..._She mused just before she collapsed, the world going dark.

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><p><em>The Fade was awful. Avelin stumbled about blindly in her dreams, realizing with a start that she was in Redcliffe. Puzzled as to why in the Void she'd be dreaming of a place that she hadn't visited since she was younger, she meandered through the 'town' and up to the castle, a route she'd taken a dozen times in her childhood. Stepping into it's halls, she stopped dead. There, in the centre of the hallway, was a raven-haired girl with eyes the same colour as the winter storms that plagued the country constantly. Across from her, chatting amicably with the little girl, was a little boy with sandy hair. <em>

_Stunned, Avelin realized that this was no dream. It was a memory. One that she revisted often in her nights of restless sleep. However, there was only one other person that she'd ever met in her lifetime with sandy hair..._

The sharp pang of realization hit her hard, and she shot upright, gasping for air. "Easy now, Warden." came a voice from her right. Avelin's vision was still blurry, and she struggled to make out the owner of the soft, lilting voice. "W-who are you?" She managed to croak, her throat drier that a summer in Highever. "Ahh, that's right. You were not with the group of Wardens that came here before. You may call me Morrigan, if it pleases you."

Avelin rolled the name around in her head before she murmured softly, "What happened? Where am I?" Her eyes were finally beginning to adjust, and she took in her surroundings with curious eyes. She was in a small hut, likely in the Wilds judging by the choice of wardrobe Morrigan wore. "You are in the Wilds, in the home occupied by myself and my mother. She rescued you."

"Rescued..-" Avelin gasped as she finally grasped what had happened. "What happened to the army? To the king? And Alistair?" Her voice was foreign to her- high pitched and anxious, almost childlike. Morrigan held her hands up. "The army was slaughtered. The man who was supposed to respond to your signal abandoned the fight. Those he left were massacred." Avelin cut her off with an anguished cry, shaking her head.

"However, miraculously, your king and the Commander of the Wardens here in Ferelden managed to escape the carnage." Avelin's head shot up at this news, her grey eyes glistening with tears. "What? **How?**" She demanded to know, wincing as she pushed herself up off of the bed with the intent on locating her armour.

"My mother saw fit to aid them before rescuing you and your friend from that tower." came Morrigan's simple reply. Before the warrior to ask, Morrigan motioned to the chest at the foot of the bed. "Your belongings are in the chest there. I will be outside. Mother asked to speak to you when you woke." Without issuing another word, Morrigan left a speechless Avelin to clamber into her soft linen pants and shirt before donning her armour, which she was surprised to find cleaned and repaired.

Running her fingers over the armour, she searched her pack to discover that the amulet that Avelin had received from the arl upon asking about Alistair was still intact. Letting out the breath she hadn't realised she was holding, she quickly fastened the necklace around her neck, tucking it into her armour. "Thank you, Morrigan..." she murmured to the closed door, not knowing the woman lurked on the other side of it. A small smile crossed Morrigan's face as she heard the warrior's grateful thanks, and she moved to her mother's side as Avelin exited the hut, her eyes searching worriedly for Alistair. When she found him, she moved wordlessly to him and pulled him into a hug, much to everyone's surprise.

"You're alive..." came the soft murmur from the sandy haired templar once he got over his intial shock and retured Avelin's embrace. "Yes, thanks to Morrigan and her mother. As well as you, I'm lead to believe." She smiled fondly at him, remembering how he'd at least alerted her and tried to get to her in time.

Alistair shook his head. "I was too late, I-" Avelin held up her hand. "Stop. You warned me, you tried to put yourself in the way of that arrow. For that, I thank you." Alistair bowed his head in acknowledgment as Avelin turned to the two mages who were observing the exchange. "And thank you both for what you've done. Not just for us, but for Ferelden as well." Much to the mages' surprise, the black-haired warrior dropped to one knee and bowed her head in respect.

It was Morrigan's mother who recovered first, gently placing a hand on the warrior's shoulder. "Rise, Avelin Cousland. There's no need for formality here. I am an old witch with powerful magic, and my daughter is coming into her own power with my guidance." Morrigan was stunned, her golden eyes hovering over the warrior her mother was soothing. _That's the Morningstar?!_ She thought incredulously. Never had it crossed Morrigan's mind that the famed Morningstar would be a capable, independent woman of noble birth, let alone a warrior who had two fighting styles. Morrigan instantly held a new level of respect for the woman they'd spent nearly a week saving. Avelin Cousland was important to Ferelden – she played a key role in it's survival.

Breaking her reverie, she heard Avelin speaking with her mother and Alistair about the fact that Cailand and Duncan had both survived Ostagar, and Alistair buried his head against Avelin's shoulder in sheer relief, tears streaming down his face. It was obvious then that the four were close, perhaps closer than even Flemeth realized. Morrigan also caught wind that she was to accompany the group, a fact that she would have protested vehemently if she had not learned who Avelin was beforehand. "Allow me to gather my things, if you please?" She directed the question at Avelin, who nodded with a faint smile.

Moments later, Morrigan emerged with a small pack and staff, bidding her mother farewell before the trio made their way out of the wilds towards Lothering. Avelin and Alistair were both quiet for most of the journey, speaking quietly when Morrigan asked them a question, or when they spoke between each other.

It would prove to be an interesting journey, indeed.

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><p>AN: _And that's that! Again, I apologise for this update taking so long! Lots of things happening here in Australia at the moment! It's been crazy busy!_

_Avelin has finally discovered who Alistair is, but she likely won't reveal that information until she feels it's pertinent for him to know that she knows :) I think it's sweet that she won't be seen without that amulet he left Arl Eamon to give her, though, don't you? :3_

_I'd like to thank all of you for continuing to read and support this fanfiction – I'm having a blast writing it, and deviating from the canon story, of course! Because what is life without a little adventure!_

_If you haven't read ElyssaCousland's fanfiction "There and Back Again", I recommend checking it out! It's a wonderful, relateable fic! I also recommend __"__Flight of a Hawk, Return of a Wolf" by RedHawkeRevolver – it's an awesome Fenris/Hawke fic!_

_As always, rate, review, and favourite if you like what you're reading and would like to be alerted when I update! I really appreciate your support! _

_That's all for now! See you in the next update!_


	5. Beginning of the Road

_A/N: Oh my god, I am unbelievably sorry that it's taken almost a MONTH to update this story! My computer decided that it wanted to break 2 weeks ago – completely wiped my system 32 files and left me with nothing. After several restores and a lot of cursing, I caved and went to a shop to have it fixed._

_While my computer is back and running again, I do have to type out each of my chapters again and try to get caught up with everything. Thank you so much for being patient with me – this is my first fic, so I'm still working out a lot of the kinks._

_That being said – here is chapter 5 of Evening Star! I'm currently hunting for a beta for this story as well, so if you're interested in beta-ing for me, please send me a PM! :) I'd be super grateful!_

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><p>Lothering was just as Avelin remembered it from her travels with her family as a young girl – it was a picturesque village with a simple air. The folk who inhabited the village were farmers and simple merchants. There was also a Chantry here, as there was in every Ferelden village, and a contingent of Templars. Flemeth had warned them that they'd likely find both Cailan and Duncan here, disguised so as not to draw attention to themselves. Avelin still couldn't believe they were alive. The battle at Ostagar had been a horrendous loss for Ferelden; nearly half of the army's available forces lay dead at the base of the ruins, their blood and bones lining the floor of the valley.<p>

Stopping just at the entrance to the village, Alistair cleared his throat, causing both Morrigan and the raven-haired warrior to turn and glance his direction. "Something on your mind, Alistair?" Avelin asked softly, whilst Morrigan snorted behind her. "This should be good. He's finally decided to join us."

Alistair sputtered, "Is it so hard to understand my being quiet? We just went through a horrible ordeal! I'm still struggling to comprehend all of this!" Morrigan sneered at the templar before hissing, "That's not entirely surprising, simpleton." Avelin held a hand up to both her companions to silence them before the argument got heated even further. "Alistair, feel free to speak your mind. Morrigan, don't be so cruel, please."

A sigh came from the witch's direction, but she inclined her head in understanding and took a step back, Avelin's full attention on her childhood friend. "I wondered where we might go from here, Avelin." The warrior rubbed her temples, shaking her head. "I have no idea where to go or what to do, Alistair. I figured Redcliffe would be a good place to start. I know some people there, as well as the arl. He'd likely help us bring justice to that blasted traitor, Loghain." Avelin spat the general's name as if it were poison on her tongue.

"Good plan. I was thinking we could try using some old Grey Warden treaties to build some more support. There's one for the Circle Mages, the Dalish, and the dwarves of Orzammar." He handed her three scrolls, which she looked over quickly before rolling them back up and handing them back to him. "First things first, however – we need to find Duncan and Cailan. Perhaps the two of them have a plan they'd be willing to share as well, or at least some insight for us."

Smiling at the former templar's quick thinking, Avelin headed into the village, her mere presence drawing attention. As they walked through towards the Chantry, any villagers they encountered bent their heads in respect, murmuring softly, "Good afternoon, my lady." Avelin intially wondered why they were showing her such a high level of respect, but a glance down at her armour told her all she needed to know. The crest in the centre of her chest was as bright as the blazing Ferelden sun. "Ahh...we might need to block this crest out somehow..." She murmured, tapping the hilt of her off-hand blade as they wandered, their eyes searching for signs of Duncan and Cailan.

Alistair raised an eyebrow before glancing at the crest. "It certainly draws attention, doesn't it. It's a unique crest, so anyone would know it, especially if they knew your family and your titles." Avelin nodded, sighing softly. "Oh, Maker, people would recognise Cailan and Duncan's armour too – their armour is even more ostentatious than mine." Beside her, Alistair groaned. "Let's hope they managed to disguise themselves well enough." Avelin murmured, and nearly jumped when a familiar voice appeared at her left side. "We seem to have managed so far."

* * *

><p>"I still can't believe you survived Ostagar..." Alistair's voice was low as the foursome occupied a corner in the inn, having just dispatched a scouting band of Loghain's soldiers. Thankfully, Cailan had been upstairs, hiding, so the soldiers had no idea that he had survived the horrors of Ostagar. Duncan had cut the king's hair and coloured it with a quick dye of elfroot, so that the formerly blonde king was now sporting chestnut locks, and his trademark braids were also gone. Duncan had shaved and cut his own hair as well, and now looked like a much younger mercenary.<p>

"Yes, well, we owe Morrigan and her mother a debt that I have no doubts will be repaid eventually." The Warden-Commander shot the apostate a grateful yet still apprehensive glance. "Please. We aren't as bad as the Chantry makes us seem. You both needed help, and you're vital to Ferelden's survival of this Blight." The young woman scoffed, rolling her eyes and leaning back in her chair. Avelin noticed that she'd been unable to look away from Cailan the entire time the group had been talking, something she didn't blame her for. Cailan was a good-looking young man, and there had once been a time where Avelin would have jumped at the opportunity to be his mistress, or even his wife. Now, however, she could not see past their strong bonds of friendship or Cailan's arrogance.

"Commander, you said that Alistair's idea with the treaties was a good one, but where should we start? Should we start with Redcliffe before travelling to Kinloch Hold and spiraling out from there, or should we start further out and make our way in?" Avelin asked Duncan quietly, and he sighed before responding quietly, "Avelin, please call me Duncan. If you insist that I do not use your proper title, then I must implore that you do the same." The warrior cringed as he scolded her, but she nodded. "Secondly, I have heard rumours that the Arl is deathly ill. We may want to make haste to Redcliffe and see what is happening for ourselves. From there, we can form a better strategy."

Cailan rolled his eyes a little bit, and the gesture annoyed Avelin. She knew that he was used to being waited on hand and foot as well as having capable Generals to make him look like a genius when it came to combat tactics, but the way he was brushing off the conversation like it didn't matter touched a nerve. "And what does Cailan, son of Maric, King of Ferelden, have to say on the matter?" Her tone was low and venomous, and Alistair glanced at her in surprise. He too had been getting annoyed with his half-brother's antics, but he hadn't realised that Avelin would lash out. Duncan, however, seemed to find the exchange amusing and kept himself quiet, watching the pair of warriors.

"I...Well, I'm not sure, Avelin. In the years I've been in battle and in the years I've been on the throne, I never once thought something like this was even possible. Loghain was the best soldier we had at our disposal; I never dreamed he'd turn against the crown." Cailan responded quietly once he'd recovered his voice. "Then perhaps His Majesty should stop rolling his eyes and actually attempt to help us come up with some semblance of a strategy." Avelin hissed before rising abruptly from the table and headed up to one of the rooms she had acquired for the group that night. "We leave at daybreak." She tossed over her shoulder before disappearing up the stairs, moving silently despite her heavy armour.

Morrigan smirked faintly as Cailan opened and closed his mouth, much like a fish, before he settled down at the table again, glancing down at his hands. "She's changed so much in such a short time." He mused quietly, tapping the table. "She was always such a happy young woman; never a care in the world. She'd dance about the castle at Denerim, or her own home in Highever Castle. She worked well with everyone, and never mistreated anyone. The people loved her, looked up to her. The Jewel of Highever. The Morningstar." He whispered the last words before looking up at Duncan, tears threatening to spill from his crystaline blue eyes. "I never wanted this for her. Bryce and Eleanor never wanted this for her. She-" Duncan held up a hand, and went to say something, but Alistair interrupted him. "I highly doubt this is a life she would have willingly chosen for herself. Not all of us get to make that decision. It's made for us." He rose as well, inclining his head. "Your Majesty. Duncan." He pushed away from the table and headed upstairs as well, leaving Morrigan to deal with the two warriors at the table.

Duncan and Cailan argued heatedly over what to do for the better part of an hour and a half before the apostate had had enough of them talking circles around each other.

"With all due respect, I believe that the two young Wardens have a point, though it may have been hard to make out considering the amount of skirting around words they've been doing lately. We cannot risk exposing His Majesty, and he is far too used to living in privilege that he would out himself and the rest of this company almost instantly." Cailan opened his mouth to speak, but a glower from Morrigan quickly silenced him. Duncan gestured for her to continue, trying to hide an amused smile. "I suggest we separate. The king and yourself should go east, to the Brecilian Forest, and try to rout out the Dalish. The three of us can resupply here before we head northwest to Redcliffe." Duncan raised an eyebrow, but nodded quietly. "I feel that would be the wisest course of action for the moment."

Glancing between the two men, Morrigan produced the Dalish scroll from one of the packs left at the table, and handed it to Duncan. "Be careful. The Dalish are not kind to strangers, even those with good intentions. I will tell Avelin and Alistair in the morning. We will see you again in Denerim." That said, the scantily clad mage rose, gathering the rest of their belongings and heading upstairs as well, giving Duncan and Cailan a nod of farewell.

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><p>Avelin slept restlessly, plagued with nightmares of her childhood, the recent events, and worst of all, the darkspawn horde. She shot upright in the middle of the night, her skin covered in a cold sweat, and she pressed her face into her hands, whimpering softly as she finally came to a much more alert state. A quiet knock on the door came before it opened, revealing a concerned Alistair standing there. "Are you alright, Avelin? I heard you thrashing around."<p>

Avelin went to nod, but realised that would be lying, so she shook her head, trembling violently as she sat up in bed. Alistair, feeling a pang of guilt, walked over to her and sat beside her. He was wearing loose pants and nothing else, but his body heat was enough to cause Avelin to curl up unconsciously against him. "I'm going to guess you had a dream full of darkspawn." A scared whimper was all he needed. "Eventually, you'll be able to block those dreams out. But they are awful for a time. I'm sorry..." He murmured, knowing that he'd never be able to comfort her properly. Grey Wardens who joined during a Blight had it worse than any other Warden, and his heart squeezed painfully.

"Thank you, Alistair..." she murmured softly after a moment of silence, sighing lightly. "I feel a little better knowing that I'll be able to block it out eventually. I'd hate to be woken like this every night." Alistair smiled lightly, rubbing her shoulder. "That's what I'm here for. To deliver unpleasant news and witty one-liners." The templar was awarded with a quiet laugh, and he celebrated his small victory. "Do you want me to leave you to get back to sleep?" He asked after a moment, causing Avelin to shake her head.

"No...just stay with me...at least until I fall asleep." She murmured drowsily, sighing again as she curled into Alistair's warmth. She'd fallen asleep like this against him when they were kids in Redcliffe, and it was how Isolde had found them before tearing them apart and scolding Alistair. It was also the last time Avelin had ever seen him before he'd been sent away.

Alistair gently pulled a hand through her hair, supporting her as she slowly drifted off. Once he was sure she was asleep, he moved slowly, settling her back down in the bed and covering her with the bedding so that she'd be warm. Smiling faintly, he quietly headed out of her room, lingering at the doorway long enough to whisper, "Good night, Avvy." That said, he closed the door behind him and returned to his own room, where he lay awake staring at the ceiling for several hours before sleep claimed him as well.

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><p><em>And that's that! Thanks again for reading! Don't forget to favourite and follow as well as review! If you haven't checked out ElyssaCousland's "There and Back Again", please do so! She's a wonderful writer, and someone who's works I enjoy immensely!<em>

_Cheers again! Stay tuned for the next chapter!_

_- **rhistel**_


	6. Roads to Take

_A/N: Still working on catching myself back up to where I was in terms of pre-written chapters. What a nightmare! I'm still so irritated at my computer for going haywire on me! Oh well, next time I'll remember to save all my works to an external hard drive! _

_That being said - there is no beta for this story yet! I'm still actively seeking one, so if you would like to beta for me, please inbox me! Any mistakes in this chapter are my own doing!_

_Here's Chapter 6! Enjoy! :)_

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><p>The next morning proved eventful as both Grey Wardens learned of the departure of the Commander and Cailan, leaving an indignant Morrigan staring cooly at a flustered Alistair and agitated Avelin, who left shortly after to being packing her things. "I cannot believe you told them to go to the Dalish without us. We need their help!" Alistair sputtered as he haphazardly shoved his things into his pack, mumbling other words and phrases beneath his breath, some less kind than others. Morrigan shot back something he was sure was witty, but he was far too distracted to even take note of anything she was saying. His silence eventually led the mage to leave the room to pack as well, though he knew she'd be back in a few moments.<p>

Truthfully, his mind was in a different place – a place where none of this nonsense had happened, and he and Avelin had grown up together to be close friends, perhaps even more. He was a young man, but he had always wanted to settle down young. Being conscripted into the Grey Wardens, and even being sent to the monastery before that had put a very large damper on those sorts of plans, a fact that still irritated him to this day. He'd been a warden for six months, and still wasn't used to all the changes.

So absorbed in his errant thoughts was he that he never heard Avelin enter the room and begin speaking to him. He didn't notice her at all until she gently took his elbow, standing at his side, a concerned expression on her face. He started, his hand wrapping around her wrist firmly until he realised who it was. "Apologies, my lady." He uttered, the tips of his ears flushing a bright red. The concerned expression on Avelin's face had turned into a panicked one when his fingers had closed around her wrist, but it relaxed a little now as she took a few steps away from him, rubbing her wrist absently once he'd let go of it.

"Something on your mind, Alistair?" She asked kindly, her eyes glancing at his overstuffed pack. Sighing softly, she emptied it and began folding things and tucking them into compartments that he didn't know existed in it. "Err...sort of." He mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck as she sorted his pack for him. When she was done, everything fit neatly inside with ample room for the supplies they'd be picking up once they left the inn.

"Care to take a walk with me? We can discuss it on the way, if you'd like." Avelin shot an icy glare at Morrigan who sighed loudly and rolled her eyes as she passed the room they were in before stomping downstairs to pay for their stays. She was also tasked with resupplying the party with basic provisions.

Avelin held out the pack to Alistair, which he took with a grateful smile, and nodded once in response to her question. "I'd like that, Avelin." Her name rolled off his tongue rather easily, and it brought a smile to her face.

"Good. Let's head out then, shall we? Can't waste another minute of daylight." She hoisted her own pack higher up onto her shoulder before walking down, bidding the innkeeper a warm farewell. As they walked, she kept relatively close to him, and spoke after a few minutes of silence. "Thank you, by the way. For coming to my rescue last night." There was an unmistakeable flush staining the warrior's cheeks. "It's been a long time since I've been plagued by nightmares. I know it has a lot to do with being a Warden, but still. I appreciate you staying with me until I fell asleep."

A smile broke out on her face as she briefly remembered falling asleep against him, and it was mirrored on the face of the handsome former Templar. "It was no trouble, my lady. I remember how horrid my first Warden dreams were, so I figured it was something you should know about." Avelin rubbed her arm lightly, nodding. She could have sworn she heard him say "Goodnight Avvy" on his way out of the door, but considering how exhausted she had been the night before, that was likely not the case.

Electing to change the subject, Avelin asked him about his Templar training and about the Grey Wardens, which he was only too happy to talk about, at least for a time. There was only so much he could tell her out in the open without passerby listening in, so they dropped the topic after a short time.

On their way back toward the inn after visiting several vendors, she overheard a small child asking for his mother, and she felt so heartbroken for him that she gave the poor child an entire sovereign and bade him get food before going to the Chantry. _Poor boy. I wish I didn't share his pain, but I know how he feels. Holding onto hope when there is very little of it left._ The thought left a bitter taste in her mouth, and she shook her head, making for the Chanter's Board in search of ways to make easy coin. She tapped her chin, remembering the bandits they'd slain on the highway the night before while making their way into the village.

"I'm going to go see if I can speak to someone regarding those bandits and also try to find someone who knows that poor Templar we found. Would you get a few things from the weaponsmith for me?" She tossed him a coin pouch with a smile before heading into the Chantry, the double doors creaking open before their weight brought them shut behind her.

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><p>Avelin was in the Chantry maybe twenty minutes before she emerged again, even more agitated than she had been when she was told that Duncan and Cailan had left ahead of them. At her side was a redheaded Chantry sister who was gabbing away, her accent unmistakeably Orlesian. At Alistair's cocked eyebrow, she shook her head as if to say <em>"Don't ask."<em>, to which Alistair chuckled at before handing her the remainder of the coin she'd handed him. The unlikely trio walked together toward where Morrigan was to meet them, Avelin tucking the coin pouch into her belt quietly so as not to attract the attention of the refugees.

As they made their way toward the rendevous point, they gave an elderly doctor several poultices, for which she attempted to pay them, but Avelin turned the reward down, telling her to use it to get the villagers much needed supplies before they left Lothering. They also cleared several groups of bandits and found the body of the young boy's mother. With a heavy heart, Avelin retrieved the woman's keepsake and returned alone to the Chantry to give it to the child, who wailed when he was handed the item. It broke Avelin's heart, and she turned down the reward for her work before she headed back to the group, her eyes downcast and her step heavy.

When they met Morrigan, they noticed the scantily clad mage was not alone. At her side was a Qunari, a rather hardy and stubborn race of warriors who adhered to a very strict code of conduct. "Where on earth did you come across him, Morrigan?" Avelin asked curiously, studying the creature with a gaze of respect as well as apprehension. It was not Morrigan who answered, but the sister. "He butchered an entire farmhold. He was placed in that cell to be left for the darkspawn." The rogue's eyes darkened as she looked at the Qunari.

"It is as she says." the Qunari responded flatly before turning and following Morrigan, who had begun to walk off toward the Imperial Highway entrance. Once there, the unlikely band saved a dwarven merchant and his son, and offered for them to join their merry little gathering. The offer was refused, but with some humor, and Avelin and her companions set off toward Redcliffe with more questions than answers.

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><p>The party stopped to make camp at near complete darkness, and unsurprisingly, Avelin offered to take first watch. Alistair opened his mouth to argue, but the haunted look in the warrior's grey eyes made him snap his mouth shut and instead go to work on erecting a tent for him to sleep in.<p>

Grateful to become absorbed in a task that would take his mind off of Avelin for a brief moment, he worked methodically. He'd learned a great deal of their companions on the journey thus far. Leliana, the Chantry sister, was born and raised in Orlais, in the house of her mother's matron. The woman was soft-spoken at times, but was a vehement believer in Andraste's teachings – vehement to the point of being slightly delusional.

Sten, the Qunari, spoke very little to any of the humans he travelled with, but he respected Avelin's warrior status enough to divulge that he'd been sent to answer a question for his people. Avelin, knowing that she would not get much else from him, had thanked the warrior for at least telling her that much. Though he knew the creature would never admit it, Alistair could have sworn he saw the briefest smile tug at the Qunari's lips before his face turned to stone again.

Once his tent was set up, he glanced over at Avelin, who was sat with her back to the group, tapping her knee as she kept a vigilant watch over the entire campsite. Morrigan had isolated herself far across the camp, making small lean-to structures instead of a tent, and not far to the left of her, Bodahn and Sandal -the two dwarves they'd saved just outside of Lothering- kipped inside of their covered wagon. Sten slept in the centre of the camp, electing not to erect a tent or use a bedroll at all, which Alistair shuddered at.

Leliana had a tent not too far from where Avelin was sitting now, and a small candlelight flickered within the canvas, signalling that the woman was either reading or writing something. Not a few minutes after Alistair's eyes landed on the tent, the candle snuffed out, leaving only darkness inside. The only light sources were the crackling fire that Avelin had her back to, and the smaller fire Morrigan had going beside her miniature camp.

Taking it upon himself, he erected a tent for Avelin as well before he ducked into his own, knowing that she would know it was his doing. He'd elected to take second watch, and Leliana had the third watch, a fact that surprised him. He hadn't expected the sister to volunteer for watch duty. Sighing softly, he closed the flaps to his tent, tugged his armour off, and settled into his bedroll to fall into a deep sleep, his exhaustion catching up to him.

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><p>Avelin knew that she was being antisocial, and she felt a little guilty for it since she knew she was coming across as moody to both Leliana and Sten, but she couldn't help it. War was not something she enjoyed, and now she was stuck in the middle of the worst one Ferelden had seen for a long time. It had already cost her so much, and she had a feeling it would cost her much more before the end.<p>

Deciding to try and distract herself, the warrior began to hum softly, the music a song that her mother had sung for her and her siblings many times when they couldn't sleep or settle down.

_There's no shame in crying just a little_

_But remember, there's a reason to be bitter_

_And you're only young._

_Your life has just begun._

_Don't lock every door before you._

_A bright future lies before you,_

_You only need to reach and seize it._

_There are a million roads to choose,_

_darling child, just believe that _

_It will all work out the way you want it too._

_And if you find yourself looking back for home,_

_It's just past the last bend in the road._

Avelin sighed softly as she looked down at her hands, biting her lip as tears pinged against the metal of her gauntlets. Her mother had been such a wise and wonderful person, and Arl Howe had stolen that from her. Her father had been a rock for her against her mother's rush of energy, and Avelin missed having another ear to borrow if something was troubling her. And poor Fergus and Aedan...Maker only knew where they were now.

The warrior sighed, tilting her head back as she looked up at the star-speckled skies, grateful for the clarity. She sat like that for hours, in silence, listening and watching for disturbances of the camp as well as darkspawn. Thankfully, her watch was uneventful, and when Alistair came to relieve her four hours later, she was grateful.

Placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, she smiled at him faintly before heading towards where she'd put her bedroll, only to find a tent erected around it. Looking over her shoulder, she noticed Alistair's wry smile before he settled down to take his watch. Shaking her head in both bewilderment and amusement, Avelin entered the tent, stripped down to her cloth pants and shirt, and curled into her bedroll. Usually, it took a while for sleep to claim the restless warrior, but tonight sleep claimed her instantly and kept her there until dawn's first light.

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><p><em>Thanks again for reading! Don't forget to favourite and follow as well as review! If you're wondering, the song is "Roads" written by myself! :)<em>

_Reviews:_

_VeggieGamerGirl: I'm so pleased you like it! I'm still trying so hard to catch back up on all the chapters I lost - but I promise, I'll be updating frequently! :D Thanks so much for your review! :3_

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><p><em>If you haven't checked out ElyssaCousland's "There and Back Again", please do! I guarantee you'll love her work as much as I do!<em>

_Cheers again! Stay tuned for the next chapter!_

_- rhistel_


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